


Lustrate

by magickus



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Anal Sex, Body Image, Body Worship, First Time, Hyur Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Love Confessions, M/M, Male Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Mild Hurt/Comfort, Oral Sex, Original Character(s), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise, Rimming, Self-Esteem Issues, Top G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-04-21 08:40:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22056655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magickus/pseuds/magickus
Summary: A familiar fear bubbles up that he cannot quite dismiss, a discomfort in his skin that worsens the further down his neck G'raha goes.What if G'raha dislikes what he finds?
Relationships: G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Warrior of Light
Comments: 8
Kudos: 140





	Lustrate

**Author's Note:**

> it's finally raha's turn yaaaaay
> 
> somethin a little different here. i just wanted some body worship and some sweet sweet comfort then i realized i have the power to make it so. i shape my own destiny.

G'raha's lips trail fire down his skin. Claran twists his fingers into the sheets, brows knit as he bites back the noises that bubble up in his throat.

He hadn't expected to end up here, like this— well, he knew that G'raha held him in high regard but not to this degree. G'raha admitted so after time spent in Claran's room at the Pendants. One moment they were cheerfully discussing a new book, then G'raha confessed his feelings, and one thing led to another until Claran found himself pinned to the bed while G'raha made thorough work of kissing him. 

Not that he's complaining. He's been struggling with a powerful attraction to G'raha for a while, falling for him too easily with the expectation of stewing in his feelings until they went away. The reciprocation surprises him. A familiar fear bubbles up that he cannot quite dismiss, a discomfort in his skin that worsens the further down his neck G'raha goes. Claran bites down hard on his lip.

What if G'raha dislikes what he finds?

Scarlet eyes dart upwards from the jut of Claran's collarbone.

"You're tense," G'raha breathes. Claran tenses more, caught in the midst of his anxieties. G'raha pulls his head back and licks his lips, staring down at Claran in concern.

Claran exhales, breath trembling, and turns his head away. He fixes his gaze on the wall. "S-sorry," he says. "I'm alright."

"If you want to stop—"

"No! No," Claran says too quickly. "I'm fine. Really, it's nothing. Just… just me being… me. Please don't stop."

A cool hand beneath his chin guides his eyes back to G'raha. He searches Claran's face, his eyes soft and patient. Claran can barely handle it. To be beneath the focus of someone's unfiltered adoration… it's too much.

"You can tell me," G'raha says. "You are so very dear to me, Claran. If there is anything I can do to help..."

How unfair. Claran knows he should communicate, stop bottling up his fears, but this is all so new and wonderful and ruining it would shatter him. The words rest at the tip of his tongue but letting them out requires all of his strength.

"I don't like myself," he says quickly. G'raha's expression slackens in shock. Claran squeezes his eyes shut to hide from it. "There isn't an ilm of myself that I consider attractive and the fact that you want this at all is unbelievable and I'm not entirely convinced that I'm not currently dreaming."

"Claran—"

"I like you immensely and I really do want this but I'm absolutely terrified that the second you get my clothes off I'll be below your expectations and you won't be attracted to me anymore."

He takes a deep breath. G'raha is silent. Fear bolts through him and turns his stomach. "I'm sorry," he says. "I'm really sorry. I say too much sometimes. I shouldn't have—"

Lips press to his and the words die in his throat. He opens his eyes as G'raha pulls away. G'raha smiles at him.

"Nothing on this or any other star could keep me from you," G'raha whispers. Heat crawls up Claran's neck and settles somewhere in his cheeks. "Aside from you, of course," G'raha says quickly. "If you ever become sick of me."

"Never," Claran assures.

G'raha's hands move to Claran's waist. His touch is a suggestion. Claran sucks in a breath, still yearning. The fear festering in his mind grows dimmer with each passing moment. "Please allow me to show you," G'raha requests. His hands slide up, seeking out Claran's frame beneath the baggy robes he always wears. "Let me offer you comfort."

It takes an embarrassing amount of courage for Claran to nod his permission, and even more so to sit up so G'raha can remove his clothes. He's sweet about it, taking his time, his eyes darting up to Claran's face to check on him with each layer lost. There's a pause when he's down to his undershirt and trousers, a lingering whisper of apprehension stilling him for only a brief moment.

"When you're ready," G'raha encourages. He presses a tender kiss to Claran's cheek and pets a hand over his unruly hair. It's enough, and Claran pulls his shirt up and over his head and settles back once more against the bed.

G'raha gazes at him. Claran looks away again. His body is too soft, too frail. Where other adventurers have hard edges and muscle he has give and curves. His hips are too wide, his stomach too round and marred by four ugly scars, raised pale on his skin, a reminder of something he would much rather forget.

The warm sensation of lips against his scars startles a gasp from him. He glances down and accidentally catches G'raha's eyes. G'raha's lips curve upwards as he kisses Claran's belly, out to get every bit of skin he can reach. Claran squeaks and slaps a hand over his face. He felt too hot, too open. Each kiss made him twitch and shiver.

"Beautiful," G'raha whispers. A hand settles in the curve of Claran's waist, crystal cool against his skin. His lips move with each word, brushing against the sensitive skin above Claran’s navel. It’s torture. "You are gorgeous, Claran. Every ilm of you."

Claran uses every ounce of his willpower to not cry. G'raha continues kissing him, up along each rib, over the frantic beat of his heart. G'raha's tongue darts out over one nipple and Claran gasps at the jolt it sends through him. He covers his mouth to hide his responsiveness, but his body betrays him and arches into every touch.

G'raha catches his wrist and gently urges his hand away. "Let me hear you," he says. His voice rumbles low. Claran shakes. "Please. I want to make you feel good, Claran. I want to show you just how beautiful you are."

Being wanted is an unfamiliar sweetness. A single, treasonous tear escapes down his cheek. G'raha moves up and kisses it away, cupping his face in soothing hands. "It's alright," he says. He kisses Claran's temple, his brow, the tip of his nose. "I've got you."

Claran's fears grow quiet. G'raha trails his fingers down into Claran's trousers and takes sure hold of his cock. The intensity is so unlike anything Claran has ever experienced— which isn't much, aside from moments with his own hand, which can't even compare to the hot slide of G'raha's flesh against him. Claran moans, unrestrained as G'raha requested, and the growl G'raha utters into his ear catches him off-guard.

"Forgive me," G'raha says. He releases Claran and makes short work of the last of his clothing. Claran shivers, suddenly bare. G'raha moves down, lips moving in a certain path down the center of Claran's body, teasing him with licks and bites in places that make him sigh. G'raha's mouth skirts the place that aches for him the most and focuses instead on Claran's legs. He lifts one, continuing his kisses along Claran's calf, up to the untouched skin of his inner thighs. Teeth pinch down and Claran gasps, back arching as a clever tongue soothes the red mark left behind. G'raha subjects Claran's other leg to a similar treatment, kissing him and marking him, drifting close to where he wants and moving away again.

Claran never imagined G'raha to be a  _ tease. _ "Please," he keens, his voice shaking with need.  _ "Please." _

G'raha glances up at him, eyes burning hot, his ears perked forward at attention. Claran can see his pupils expand, black swallowing red. His gaze is hungry, devouring.

Claran has no time to feel self-conscious. G'raha's tongue presses to his hole and knocks the breath from his lungs. G'raha licks around him, inside him, opens him up. Claran writhes on his mouth and he takes a firm hold of his hips and keeps him torturously still. His tongue curls inside, hot and wet and too much.

_ "Raha!" _ Claran cries. He reaches down and clutches a fistful of G'raha's hair. "Raha— fuck, I—  _ gods!" _

G'raha pulls back and Claran can finally take a much needed breath, his hand falling limp to the bed. G'raha licks his lips, savoring Claran's taste, making his face burn with embarrassment.

"I told you, did I not?" he says, smiling. "Every ilm."

A new pressure at his entrance makes Claran squirm. G'raha observes him closely as he pushes a finger inside, slick with a cool substance. Claran is no stranger to exploring himself, but to have G'raha inside him, pumping slowly in and out, is more than he can bear. His finger crooks and presses against a spot that sends stars through Claran's vision.

"Good," G'raha praises. One finger turns to two and Claran furrows his brow at the stretch, pulling at his skin. He forces himself to relax. He wants to be good for G'raha, longs to be as close to him as he could. Claran whimpers and G'raha shushes him, kissing his thigh, then his cock. He drags the flat of his tongue against the underside and all discomfort fades from Claran's mind.

"H-hurry," he pants. "Please."

G'raha eyes him up and down. The fingers moving inside him make it difficult to focus. "A little more," G'raha says. "I don't want to hurt you."

He whines and nudges G'raha with his knee. "You won't. Do it now, please, I need it. I need  _ you, _ Raha."

That's all the convincing G'raha needs. He removes his fingers and Claran whines at the emptiness. G'raha pulls at his own robes, shucking his layers. Claran's so frustrated he chews over just ripping the damn thing off himself, but G'raha pulls it all over his head in one piece and bares himself.

Claran admires him. The crystal spreads all along G'raha's body, fit seamlessly into the right side of his torso, a beautiful expanse of sparkling blue. Curious, Claran glances down. His cheeks grow warm. G'raha's cock is still flesh, hard and bobbing against his abdomen.

G'raha catches his eye and smiles, all too knowing, a pretty dust of pink along his cheekbones. Claran smiles back.

"Deep breaths," G'raha says. He places his crystalline palm against Claran's belly. "Relax yourself for me. I will take care of you, my love."

The pet name sings to him. Warmth blooms in his chest. G'raha feels just the same as him,  _ loves _ him, and the knowledge makes him lighter than air.

He feels the blunt head of G'raha's cock against his hole, then pressure and heat. G'raha's expression tightens as he pushes his way inside. Claran's breath sticks somewhere in his throat but he keeps still, forces himself to relax as he's stretched open and filled. Claran's never been this close to anyone before. It's wonderful and frightening.

G'raha's hips meet his and he stills. Claran trembles beneath him, struggling to comprehend the immense feeling of being joined. He remembers to breathe, finally, and gasps for air. G'raha bends down to kiss him.

"You're doing so well," G'raha whispers. He takes hold of Claran's thighs and pushes them apart. He sinks deeper. Claran keens. "You look lovely. Keep breathing, just like that."

He pulls his hips back, the motion smooth, and pushes back in. Claran groans. The pace stutters in time, then picks up. Sparks ignite beneath Claran's skin as G'raha fucks into him steadily, driving in and out, pushing and pulling over and over. The friction against his walls blossoms into an addicting heat, pooling in his abdomen.

He reaches up and G'raha meets him halfway, bending down so Claran can wrap his arms around his shoulders and hang on for dear life. He can hear G'raha in his ear, each labored breath and soft noise contributing to his growing arousal. One thrust slips from tempo and he goes in harder and Claran cries out, far too loud. G'raha sucks in a breath. His lips find the hollow of Claran's throat as he starts fucking him in earnest.

It feels impossibly good. Warmth fills every ilm of Claran's body, sets him alight. He can't think anymore, can't do much of anything other than moan and cry and hold on. He's probably being too loud but he can't bring himself to care, not when G'raha hits his prostate with pinpoint accuracy every damn time. His nails sink into G'raha's skin, anchoring himself before he loses it.

It's far too much for him. He can't take it. "R-Raha," he gasps. His voice strains, too high, cracking around the edges. "I c-can't, I—  _ ahh!" _

"Th-that’s alright," G'raha pants. "Let go, Claran. I'm right here with you. Let me—  _ nnh—  _ let me feel…"

G'raha thrusts faster. The pace loses finesse but neither of them care, their senses honed entirely on reaching that peak. Claran climbs higher and higher, the heat builds, a gathering tidal wave that crashes against him again and again. "I love you," G'raha whispers. 

Claran succumbs. His vision whitens, his body trembles and gives. He spills between them, writhing under the onslaught of pleasure that sweeps over him and pulls him under. G'raha comes too, splashing hot against his insides, drawing out his own orgasm as G'raha milks it from him with slow pulls, until it hurts and Claran whines.

Everything stills. Claran rests with his eyes shut tight, coming back down from his high. He becomes aware of lips against his skin. G'raha kisses him all over once more, massaging the sore places where he gripped a little too tight with his crystal hand.

"Sorry," he whispers. Claran's lips twitch, but he doesn't have the strength for a whole smile.

"It's alright," he says. "I don’t mind."

G'raha chuckles and pulls out. The return to emptiness is unpleasant, but G’raha gathers Claran up in his arms and distracts him well enough. He traces nonsensical shapes into Claran's back. The repetitive motion lulls Claran down, guides him to the edge of unconsciousness.

"Sleep, my love," he hears. "I will be here when you wake."

His mind grows blissfully quiet as he drifts to sleep. He has nothing to fear any longer.


End file.
